CONVENIENCE
by Patcat
Summary: In the interval
1. Chapter 1

CONVENIENCE

Chapter One

He stared bleary eyed down the narrow, rain soaked, two lane road. The water laden trees' limbs and branches hung over the road, making the night even darker. He drove carefully and slowly, partly because of the conditions, and partly because he had no particular place to go. He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he took another of the road's sharp turns.

"Could be worse," he thought. "Could be snowing…could be a gravel road…" The car jerked as it struck a pothole. "Then again," he thought. "Maybe gravel would be an improvement." He checked the gas gage. "Need to stop at the next station…If there is a next station…Maybe I'm at the end of the world…" He sighed. "The whole trip's been a waste of gas…Not of time…I have plenty of time right now. I'm supposed to be a brilliant detective…Can't even find a kid who escaped from prison…Or his mom…Maybe I should phrase that used to be a brilliant detective…Or used to be a detective of any kind…"

The car's slight skid caused him to focus on the road.

"Forget about the gas," he thought. "I need some rest…or caffeine…" Through the rain and dark he saw several lights. "Good…maybe I can get some fuel…"

"Oh, God…Oh, God…Oh, God…" she prayed. "Someone come…Someone help us…Someone…Please…" She struggled against the tape that held her wrists and ankles.

"Stop it!" A voice yelled harshly in her ear. "Just stop it!"

She froze and heard muffled whimpering.

"Shut up, you stupid kid!" Another voice shouted. A smack followed the words, and the girl fought to not try to cry out through the tape that covered her mouth.

"Hey!" the man close to her cried. "Someone's stopping…Damn! We didn't turn off the lights or lock the door!"

A tiny, desperate spark of hope rose in the girl.

"We can just waste him," the other man said coldly.

Fear rose in the girl again. She hoped that the car didn't hold some of her friends who often came by the store to keep her company when she worked late. She hoped the car wasn't her parents returning early from a rare night out. She hoped that if the car held some poor lost souls that they would drive on by instead of being hurt or killed, or that they might notice something was wrong and send for help.

"Damn!" the man close to her said. "He's stopping for gas…We can't risk wasting him…We don't know who he is or if someone is waiting for him…"

"You said this would be easy," the other man said angrily. "We hit the place, grab the money, maybe have some fun with the girl…"

"How was I supposed to know she'd have her brat brother with her?" the other man snapped. "Or that someone would show up here this late on a night like this?"

"And who left the lights on? And forgot to lock the door?"

"Ok! Ok! But we gotta do something about him…"

The man grabbed the girl roughly by the shoulders. He ripped the tape from her eyes. The tape over her mouth muffled her cry of pain. Two cold green eyes stared at her from a black ski mask.

"Listen, bitch…You're going out there and take this guy's money…We'll be watching you…Watching real close…You do anything…Anything…Your little brother is dead…And you'll live just long enough for us to have some fun…You understand?"

She nodded.

The man ripped the tape from her mouth. She fought to not cry out and gasped gratefully for air. He ripped the tape from her wrists and ankles, and tears filled her eyes. The man yanked her to her feet.

"Remember," he hissed in her ear. "Anything…Your brother is dead…And you and that guy will follow."

She nodded again. As the man shoved her towards the stockroom door, she glimpsed her little brother, bound, blinded and gagged with tape. The other masked man held a gun to the child's head.

"I'll do what you want," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Please…don't hurt him…please…"

"Remember," the man said, and pushed her through the door.

He wasn't surprised when he couldn't get the gas pump to work. It was late, and the store isolated. He was trying to use cash, and it made sense that the pump would be prepay. The cold rain that pelted him as he discovered the pump wasn't working annoyed him, as did his realization that he was going to have to calculate how much gas to put in the car. He wasn't that upset, though, as he loped towards the store's entrance. "After all," he thought. "I have to go to the bathroom and get some caffeine…" The calculations fled from his brain when he stepped in the store. It was empty, with no one behind the counter to his left. A rack of maps near the counter was out of place, with two maps lying on the floor. Several candy bars and packs of gum from the display in front of the counter also lay scattered on the floor. The half door giving access to behind the counter swung open. All of his senses went on full alert.

"It's nothing," he thought. "The clerk's probably in the back…It's late…Hasn't had a chance to clean things up…I can't shut it off…I've been a cop too long…Had to watch out for things…"

A young woman—a girl, really—stumbled from a door behind the counter.

"I…I'm sorry," she gasped. "I…I was just working in the back…Can I help you?"

Her eyes were wide, and her hair tangled. Her hands shook, and there were threads of duct tape on her wrists and in her hair.

"Something's wrong," he thought. "Very wrong…God, Goren…What have you walked into?"

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"Stay calm…Stay calm," she thought. "They can see on the camera in the back…Don't give anything away…"

She tried not to look the man in his eyes. He was a big man, dressed all in black—black jeans, black T-shirt, black leather jacket. His salt and pepper hair was damp from the rain, and he jiggled his car keys in large, graceful hands. A greying stubble covered his face. If not for his gentle eyes, he might have frightened her.

"Hey…You ok?"

His voice was soft, low and surprisingly gently. Involuntarily, she looked up. He was bent over from the waist so that his head was below hers. She'd never seen eyes so brown or caring.

She fought a hitch in her throat. "He knows," she thought. "He knows something's wrong…maybe…" She thought of the gun trained on her brother.

"I'm fine," she said lightly. "Just moving some things in the back room."

"I need fifty dollars in gas…Pump three," he said calmly, but his eyes were on the stockroom door behind the counter. He saw that the door was open an inch, although it was clearly designed to close immediately behind someone.

The girl struggled not to show any emotion. "Sure," she said and flipped the switch for the pump. "Anything else?"

"Yea…" He was so calm that she wondered if he really had noticed something. "I need to use the restroom…and get some coffee…"

"If you'd like," she said, eager to get him out of the store. "I can ring everything up…and then you can be on your way…"

He studied her for the briefest of moments, and she felt as if he could see right through her. "That sounds good."

As he handed her the money, their fingers touched. It seemed to her that he allowed his fingers to linger against hers. She didn't know if it was reality or hope that caused her to think he was trying to reassure her. She opened the register, counted out his change, and handed it to him. He smiled and tilted his head towards a photo taped near the register.

"Your family?" he asked genially.

"Yea…My Mom and Dad have a date tonight." She didn't know how much she could or should tell him.

"Little brother doesn't have to work, uh?"

"No…not tonight…He helps in the back sometimes…" She felt she had to end the conversation. "The men's room is right over there."

The man seemed to pick up on her cue. "Thank you."

As he disappeared into the men's room, she tightly gripped the counter's edge.

He glanced through the men's room door just before it closed and saw the girl quickly look behind her at the stockroom. He locked the door, checked the room, and listened intently at the wall adjacent to the stockroom. He heard something, but couldn't make out what was going on. He moved to the sink and stared in the mirror. He scarcely recognized the man facing him.

"Who do you think you are?" he whispered. "How can you help…Maybe…You're wrong…"

He turned on the water and splashed it on his face. As he wiped it from his face with a rough paper towel, he tried to organize his thoughts.

"You're not wrong…Something is going on…Someone is in that stockroom…She keeps looking back there…The tape threads…Someone is in there…Maybe holding her brother…" He shook his head. "I wish Eames were here…God, I miss her…Ok…You have your cell phone…Call the locals…Your backup piece is in the car…" He pulled out his cell, but there was only a very weak signal. "Probably better outside…No heroics, Goren…Go out…Pay…get out…call the police…Don't make it worse…"

He took a deep breath, and opened the door.

To his great relief, only the girl behind the counter was in the store. She concentrated on straightening things on the counter, but she hadn't picked up the scattered items in front of it. Bobby, noting the present of a camera trained on the register area, walked to the coffee machine, filled a paper cup, and started out the door.

"Thanks," he said evenly. "Have a good night."

For a second, he saw a desperate cry for help in the girl's eyes, and it took all of his will to walk out of the store and hurry to his car. It took an equal amount of his will to fill up the car, get in it, turn it on, and drive away.

The girl clutched at the counter as the big man walked out the door. "He has to know something's wrong…He has to…"

"Now," a harsh voice said behind her. "Back in here…Now…"

She watched her hopes drive away with the man. "He'll be the last person to see me alive, except for the men who'll kill me."

END Chapter TWO


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

One of the men grabbed her and flung her against the stockroom's shelves. She glimpsed her brother before the other man swiped duct tape over her eyes and mouth, forced her to sit on the cold concrete, and yanked her arms behind her. As he wrapped tape around her wrists, she felt some small gratitude that her brother didn't seem to be any more hurt, but that small hope was quickly swept away by the fear things were about to get much worse.

"Took you long enough to get rid of that guy," one of the men said.

"You see how big he was?" the other man said. "I'm glad we didn't have to deal with him."

"Size doesn't matter with a gun…Let's make sure no one else shows up…"

She heard the door click as they left the room. She heard a faint whimper from her brother, and she tried to call out to him to at least let him know she was in the room. She struggled to move towards him, but she'd moved only a few inches before the men returned.

"Now," one of them said. "We have some fun…"

Her heart pounded. She thought of the stranger with the kind, brown eyes. Maybe he'd called for help—maybe help was coming. She clung to that hope as the men yanked her to her feet and shoved her towards the table in the middle of the room.

"Think we'll be her first?" one of the men asked.

"Maybe," the other laughed. "She'll get the best."

She heard her little brother crying through his gag. There was a loud smack.

"Shut up, kid!"

The girl desperately lurched away from the man holding her. She stumbled and fell.

"Bitch!" Claws seized her, and a fist slammed into her face. The men lifted her and threw her on the table.

"No…No…No," she thought and fought wildly against the tape and the hands that held her.

"She's a wild one! This is going to be good!"

Fingers clawed at her, tearing at her shirt and skin.

"What the hell…"

He sat in the car and peered through the sheet of rain. He hoped he hadn't parked too close to the store or too much in the open. He'd already dialed 911, but his thumb hovered over the send button.

"I wouldn't have waited before," he thought. "I'd be sure of myself…But…But…what if they're right? What if I am a whack job? If I'm seeing things that aren't there? I wish Eames was here…I miss her so much…" He shook his head. "I know what I saw…The girl's in trouble…"

A figure in the store moved towards the door. It seemed to look furtively outside before fumbling with the door.

"That's not the girl," Bobby thought. The store's lights went out as he hit the send button on his phone.

It took several frustrating minutes to reach the local police dispatcher, and several more to explain the situation to her. Bobby hesitated to play the card of his work, but, with his eyes on the solitary light on in the back of the store, he finally revealed that he was involved in law enforcement in New York City. The dispatcher was sympathetic, but warned him that the county was big and the sheriff's department small. She promised to contact the state police, but warned him that the storm was stretching the resources of all the local public safety units. Frustrated, Bobby shut his phone.

"If she checks on me…finds out I'm suspended…she may not send anyone," Bobby thought. "And it's going to be some time before anyone gets here…And if it's just one deputy…" He stared at the solitary light, and punched a familiar number on his phone. His call went to her voice mail, and he only hoped that Eames wouldn't ignore him. He explained his situation and location as concisely as he could and ended the call with a plea for her help. He stared again at the solitary light and punched another familiar number. A machine picked up after the second ring, and Bobby again pleaded his case to Eames, this time to her home phone. He shut his phone, placed it on its lowest vibrating setting, slipped it into his pocket, and stared again at that light.

"It's up to me," he thought. "I've got to help her…whoever's in there…"

He pulled his backup piece and its small holster out of the glove compartment. He carefully clipped the holster and gun to his belt. He placed his cell phone in one of his pockets, and a small flashlight in one of his jacket's pockets. He took a deep breath. "I wish Eames was here," he thought again, and stepped out into the cold, wet, dark. He moved quickly and cautiously across the pavement behind the store. There was a small window, and, not for the first time in his life, Bobby thanked the powers that be for his height. He peered through the window, and saw a boy of twelve or thirteen lying on the concrete floor. Duct tape covered his eyes and mouth, and his hands and feet were taped. As Bobby watched, two men in ski masks shoved a struggling girl, her face also covered in tape, towards the room's center.

"Can't wait," Bobby thought. "She'll be hurt…Can't wait…"

The cold rain pelted him. He took a deep breath and looked at the back door's lock. "So…that's how they got in…" He scanned the building and found the box where the electrical wires hooked up to the main lines. He pulled his small revolver from its holster. "Damn," he thought as he tried to aim the gun through the rain and wind and waited for a lightning strike and the following thunder. "I really wish Eames was here."

"What happened to the light?"

The hands left her. She stopped struggling and tried to breath.

"Must be the storm…Power's out…"

There was a loud crash from the front of the store, followed by a series of equally loud sounds of destruction.

"The storm," one of the men said in a voice filled with fear.

"Maybe it's a tornado," the other said equally frightened.

The girl didn't care if there was a tornado. It couldn't be worse than what was already happening.

For several moments, only the sounds of the rain and wind and thunder reached her ears. Then another series of crashes came.

"Someone's out there!" one of the men shouted.

"Damn…Probably that big guy…We shoulda wasted him…C'mon…"

She heard the men rush out of the stockroom. She twisted and turned on the table and finally fell off. She hit the floor with a painful thump, and lay on the cold concrete and struggled not to cry. As her heart pounded and her body throbbed with pain, she realized her nose was bleeding. "No…No…No…I won't be able to breath…I'll suffocate…"

There was a rush of cold, wet air as the storm briefly invaded the room. A large hand gently touched her shoulder.

"Take it easy." It was the voice of the big stranger. "My name is Bobby…I'm going to help you."

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

He carefully, almost tenderly, removed the tape from her mouth and eyes. She gulped for air.

"Please," he said in his soft voice. "Take it easy. Don't be afraid. I'm going to cut the tape off your wrists and ankles."

She winced as she moved her newly freed arms. She realized with a burst of shame that her shirt and bra were ripped, and her arms flew to cover her breasts.

"Here," he said and draped his leather jacket over her. "Sorry it's so big…and wet."

She clung to it. He held the knife out to her.

"If you can…could you get your brother loose?"

She nodded, and winced as she slipped her arms into the jacket's sleeves. The leather was soft and smelled warm and comforting and covered her like a blanket. She felt safe inside it. "We're safe," she thought. "This man will save us."

"The door to the stockroom…It locks from in here?" Bobby moved quickly to the door, his flashlight cutting through the dark.

"Yes," the girl answered in a hoarse voice. She scrambled across the floor to her trembling brother.

"Drew…It's ok…" She removed the tape from his body as carefully as Bobby had freed her. "Someone's here…He's helping us…"

Drew shivered and hugged her. "Emmie…" he rasped. "Are you ok?"

Bobby pushed and shoved several large boxes and shelves against the stockroom door. "They won't get in that way," he said.

"I'm ok," Emmie said. "What about you?"

"Emmie…" Drew's hand touched her cheek. "You're bleeding…"

Bobby was by them in an instant. "Here," he said. "Let me see." His large soft, hand gently turned Emmie's face. "You've got a bloody nose…Hang on…Please…Hold this…"

He handed the flashlight to Drew, and stepped quickly to a shelf that held several rolls of paper towels. He grabbed a roll and a bottle of water from another shelf. He opened the water and poured some of it on a sheet of the towel.

"Here," he said and handed the sheet to Emmie. "Press that against your nose…Not too tight…" He turned to Drew. "You ok?"

"I'm all right," Drew declared, but his voice shook.

Bobby grabbed another bottle of water and handed it to the boy. "You probably need this…Don't drink it too fast…"

Crashes sounded from the front of the store.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Two of them?" he asked. "They both have guns?"

"Yes," Emmie said.

"They don't know much about guns," Drew said. "They're big handguns…but they keep holding them like in the movies or on TV."

"Like this?" Bobby held his left hand flat and turned sideways.

"Yea…I go deer hunting with my Dad…He and his friends are always talking about how people don't know how to handle guns," Drew said.

"Is there a gun in the store?" Bobby asked. "Or a phone?"

"No gun," Emmie said. "Our Mom and Dad said it'd just be more dangerous. There's a cell phone, but it's by the register."

"Ok." Bobby helped the children to their feet. "We need to get out of here…They're going to figure out no one is there…My car is parked in the trees behind the dumpster…" He turned to Emmie. "Can you drive?"

"Emmie can drive anything," Drew said proudly.

A smiled played on Bobby's face. "She just has to drive my car…"

The sounds from the front stopped.

"Ok," Bobby said calmly. "They've figured it out…There's going to be some noise."

The stockroom's lock jiggled, followed by angry shouts, curses, and pounding on the door.

"Over here," Bobby said, and motioned the kids to a corner. "Don't worry…Both of the doors are locked."

The pounding and shouting ended, and Bobby held a finger to his lips. "Turn off the flashlight," he whispered to Drew. He moved to the back door and peered cautiously out the window. One of the masked men was at the door, but he didn't look up at the window. He jolted the lock, and growing more and more frustrated, yanked at it. He bent over to examine the lock.

"No…It can't be that easy," Bobby thought. He looked back at the children; he could just make out their forms in the dark. "Get ready to run when I say so," he whispered.

Bobby placed his hands on the door knob and lock. He looked out the window. The masked man was still examining the lock. Bobby took a deep breath, released the lock, and flung open the door as violently as he could. He slipped his gun from its holster and rushed out.

Groaning in pain, the man lay sprawled on his back on the wet pavement. His gun lay inches from his hand. Bobby scooped up the gun, and rushed back into the room.

"Now!" he yelled.

Drew and Emmie scrambled from the corner. Bobby handed his keys and phone to Emmie and his gun to Drew.

"Be careful with the gun…Get to the car…Get out of here…"

"But," Emmie protested.

"Don't worry…call the cops when you can…Go!" Bobby yelled.

He watched them run into the cold, wet, dark.

"What the…!"

Bobby spun and leveled the gun he'd just picked up at a corner of the building. "Drop the gun!" he yelled. He got a brief look at the second masked man as he scurried away.

"God," Bobby thought. "I wish Eames was here."

He looked at the first masked man, who appeared to be incapacitated for a few minutes. He saw Drew and Emmie disappear behind the dumpster. "The other guy," he thought. "He'll go for his car…Stupid, Goren…You should've done something to the car…" He moved swiftly up to the corner. In the midst of the storm, he heard an elderly engine come to life in front of the store. He looked over his shoulder and saw his car starting to inch from its hiding place. "Get away…Get away…" he prayed.

He was cold and wet, water dripping from him. His soaked clothes added to the weight of exhaustion and fear already dragging at him. "Gotta help them," he thought. Bobby took a deep breath, and, the gun raised and ready, swung around the corner.

The driver had backed up and turned the car. In a lightning flash, Bobby saw the man's eyes gleam as he caught site of the fleeing kids.

"No!" Bobby screamed. He planted his feet and shot at the car. He knew Eames would've got the tire or the driver, but there were good reasons why he was regarded as the worst shot in Major Case. He managed to hit the beat up car on the fender just above the passenger side front tire. It was enough to cause the driver to jerk and swerve and focus his attention on Bobby. As Bobby braced for another shot, he heard a strangled cry behind him. Bobby spun in time to see a large bottle of window washer cleaner flying at his head. He managed to avoid a direct hit from the bottle, but it caught him on the right side of his face and sent him reeling. The other man loomed in front of him, and Bobby saw the car bearing down on him.

END CHAPTER FOUR


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

"Oh, God," Bobby thought. "Eames…I wish Eames…"

Another blow from the bottle struck him in his right side. It sent Bobby reeling from the masked man and out of the direct path of the car. As the car sped forward, its rusted and dangling front bumper ripped into Bobby's right leg, but its full force drove upon the man holding the bottle. Bobby fell to his knees as the car pinned the man against the store. A scream of pain shot over the sounds of the storm. As he fought against waves of pain, he turned back to look at the wrecked car. One man was sprawled across the car's hood, which was folded like an accordion. The other, blood starting to soak his mask, stared glassy-eyed out the cracked window.

"The gun…he probably still has it," Bobby thought. "I gotta…" He still clutched a gun in his hand. He struggled to rise from the pavement, but his right leg gave him little support. He dragged his body across the parking lot. "The kids," he thought. He looked up and realized his car was moving towards him.

"No…Get away…Get away…" he thought. He looked at the wrecked car and saw the man inside fighting to get the door open. His car jolted to a stop near him, blocking his view of the other car and spraying water over him. The back door of Bobby's car flew open.

"Bobby!" Drew shouted. "Get in!" The boy reached for him.

"No!" Bobby yelled. "Get out of here!"

"We're not leaving you!" Emmie yelled back. "Hurry…He's almost out of the car!"

Bobby realized the kids wouldn't leave him. He knew if their positions were reversed he wouldn't leave them. He reached up for Drew's arms and grabbed at the open door, but he lacked the strength to pull his body up and Drew lacked the strength to pull him in.

"Go!" Bobby screamed. "Go…and I'll hold on!"

"Drew…Hang on to him!" Emmie gunned the car.

Bobby clung desperately to the car door and fought the waves of pain coming from his legs as they were dragged across the pavement. "Hang on…Hang on…" he thought. "If you let go, the boy will go with you. He won't let go…"

Drew clutched Bobby's left arm so tightly that the boy's fingernails dug into the man's skin. Bobby heard several gunshots, but none reached their target. "He's as bad a shot as me," Bobby thought. After several agonizing minutes, Emmie slowed and stopped the car. Drew still held desperately on to Bobby's arm. Bobby struggled to climb into the car, but the searing pain in his leg stopped him. He heard a door slam, and a few seconds later Emmie was by him.

"I held on, Emmie," Drew gasped. "I held on."

"Yea…you did good, Drew." Emmie was clearly terrified, but doing a good job of calming her brother. "C'mon…Let's get him in the car…"

Bobby concentrated on getting in the car. His leg hurt terribly, and he felt bruises rising on his face and side. It took several painful minutes but the kids managed to help him get in the back seat, where his large frame scarcely fit. Drew huddled in the small space between the front passenger seat and the back. The cold rain and wind rushed through the open door, and Bobby shivered from the pain and cold.

"Here," Emmie said and started to unzip the jacket.

"No…" Bobby said weakly. "You…You gotta stay warm…Blanket…There's a blanket…First aid kit…in the trunk…"

Emmie nodded, reached into one of the jacket's pockets, and handed Bobby's cell phone to Drew. "Call the sheriff and get an ambulance." She disappeared.

Bobby, arching his back in pain, looked at Drew. "Warn the sheriff," he said. "About the two men…" He studied the frightened boy. "You're doing great. That was a very brave thing the two of you did."

The boy paused dialing. His eyes shimmered. "We couldn't leave you…Not after you came back for us."

The car door opened again, allowing the storm's invasion. Emmie draped a damp blanket over Bobby. "I'm sorry…Everything is so wet…I'm going to try to take care of your leg."

A surge of pain blurred Bobby's vision and thoughts. He was dimly aware of Drew speaking to the dispatcher.

"Bobby…Bobby…" Emmie's voice broke through the fog. "Your leg is bad…There's a lot of blood…"

Bobby stared at his right leg. There was a lot of blood coming from a deep and ragged slash just above the knee. The fact it wasn't spurting out was a small consolation.

"Damn," Bobby said. "And I just got the car cleaned…"

"I…I know some first aid," Emmie said as she opened the first aid kit.

"Do what you can," Bobby said, trying not to betray his pain or fear. "And let's get out of here…Head to the nearest hospital…"

"A deputy and an ambulance are coming," Drew said. He stared at Bobby's leg. "It'll come from the east…We can drive towards it…That…that looks bad…"

Emmie nodded, and her wet hair flicked drops on Bobby. "Drew…help me get a bandage on his leg…Then we can go."

The children tried to be gentle, but after several moments Bobby would've been soaked in sweat from the pain if his skin hadn't already been saturated from the rain.

"We're both scouts," Emmie said, as much to comfort herself as Bobby and Drew. "Lift his leg, Drew…Be really careful…"

"I just got my merit badge in advanced first aid," Drew said.

"I bet," Bobby said, stiffening his body. "You never expected to…Oh…"

"Sorry," Emmie said.

"It's…it's ok," Bobby reassured her, although his leg felt almost as if the rusted metal still ripped into it. "Just…just get it wrapped up…" He turned and tried to look out in the darkness. He didn't want the children to know that he was afraid that one or both of the would-be robbers would descend on them.

It seemed a very long and painful time before Emmie and Drew finished wrapping Bobby's leg with nearly all of the bandages in the kit.

"I…I'm afraid it's still bleeding," Emmie said uncertainly.

"It's…ok," Bobby said. It was harder for him to maintain his mask. "Please…We…We gotta get out of here…"

"We should get this leg up," Emmie said. "Drew…help me again…"

She bent Bobby's left leg so that it offered the right some support. She then carefully bent his right leg so that its foot lay flat on the seat. Bobby hissed in pain.

"I'm sorry," Emmie said.

"It…it's all right…You're doing the right thing…Keeping it up will…will keep it from bleeding so much." He didn't know if it was loss of blood or exhaustion or both, but Bobby felt he was loosing his grip on consciousness.

"I'll help hold in place," Drew said.

Bobby leaned back against the door. He was so exhausted and hurt that he didn't notice the handle pushing against his back. He shivered as Emmie shut the back door and slid into the driver's seat.

"I'm sorry," she said as she started the car. "That it took so long to get to you…I had to adjust the seat…Figure out the car…"

"It…it's ok." Bobby shivered and winced. "Just…thank you…thank you for coming back…"

The ride took place in a painful haze for Bobby. He was aware of Emmie's careful driving and of Drew's care in keeping his leg safe. At some point he thought he heard the beeping of his phone, but he couldn't focus on the sound or Drew's words as the boy answered it. At another point, the sound of a siren and the pulsing of a bright, red light filled his head. He sensed the car stopping, and a deputy who looked barely older than Emmie loomed over him. EMTs surrounded him, and Bobby found himself in an ambulance. Through the trip he kept wondering if Eames had received his messages, if she was all right, what she would've done. "She's going to be so mad at me," Bobby thought. "I screwed up again…Eames…Eames…"

"Bobby…Bobby…"

He blinked, and Emmie's face focused over him. "Bobby…Who's Eames?"

END CHAPTER FIVE

I have a dream, by the way, that some day I'll write a fanfic were none of the characters wind up in a hospital. Ain't happening now, though.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIx

A dull ache throbbed in his head. It was joined by another dull ache in his right side, which was itself joined by a sharp, stinging throb just above his right knee. He was thirsty, terribly thirsty. He blinked, and was rewarded with a sharp pain on the right side of his face. It was difficult to open his right eye, and his right cheek felt swollen and heavy. He realized with a growing terror that something restrained his arms.

"Oh, God…No…I'm back…"

"Bobby…Bobby…Are you awake?"

For several agonizing moments, he couldn't tell if the terrible memories or the gentle voice were real.

"Ea…Eames?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yea…I'm here…"

"The…the kids…Are they…"

She raised a cup of water to him and held the straw so he could drink. "That's you, Bobby," she said as he savored the cold water on his throat. "Worried about everyone but yourself."

He couldn't look at her.

"They're both fine," Alex said. "Much better shape than you. Although both of the perps may be in worse shape than you. They're both in this hospital too. The kids say you saved them. That seems to be everyone's opinion."

He stared at his hands on the sheet. "Why," he wondered. "Why didn't she answer…call me…Why is she here…"

His embarrassment deepened into guilt. "Only after I nearly got them killed…Left them…" he muttered.

Her hand rested lightly on his. "That's not what they say."

"They're the heroes," Bobby said. "They came back for me…Patched me up…"

"Bobby," Alex said patiently. "They couldn't have done any of that if you hadn't rescued them."

"Rescue," Bobby said bitterly. "I was as stupid as the perps…Like a Three Stooges movie…"

"Are you at all interested in what shape you're in?" She tried to change the subject. "Or what day it is? Or that the Chief of Ds has been doing a very interesting dance in accepting the fact you're a hero? Those two perps aren't very bright, but they're nasty pieces of work. You're not the first guy they've put in the hospital and the kids aren't the first people they've terrorized."

Bobby digested this information. "You're sure the kids are all right?" He winced as he tried to straighten his body.

Alex gently adjusted his pillows. "Yea…The hospital didn't even keep them overnight. You've been here a couple of days, and they've been to see you. You're right. They're good, brave, smart kids. Their parents and friends are ready to give you a parade."

"I…I've been out for two days?" Bobby tried to understand how he could be so exhausted after being out for so long.

"You had some good excuses…A concussion, bruised ribs, that nasty slash on your leg…You lost some blood…"

Bobby looked down at his leg, which was propped up on several pillows. He tentatively moved it, and pain filled his head.

"Bobby…" Alex's voice was tense and worried and reached him through a haze. "Take it easy…Your leg got cut to the bone…There was a lot of damage…The doctors say it'll be ok, but it's going to hurt for a while…And, like I said, you lost a lot of blood."

Bobby realized he was shaking from the pain. He felt Alex's hand on his forehead.

"I'm going to call the nurse," she said. "Get you some more pain pills."

The nurse responded quickly. "How's our hero?" she asked genially.

"Hurting," Alex answered. "He moved his leg."

Bobby felt horribly weak.

"Let's check you out," the nurse said quietly. "And get you something for the pain…"

Several minutes later found Bobby trying to fight off the medication's effects.

"Eames," he mumbled. "Did…did you get my message…"

"Yes," she said. "And I tried to reach you…after I called the Pennsylvania State Police…and Ross…and Deakins…I figured he still had plenty of contacts…"

Bobby's befuddled mind struggled to process her words. "I…the boy…Drew…there was a call…"

Alex tried not to shiver at her memory of the call, of the boy's struggle to be brave and calm, of the description of Bobby's injuries, and the occasional sound of Bobby trying not to show his pain in the background. "Yea…He's a brave kid…I'd tried to reach you…but there wasn't a signal…"

He kept fighting the fog descending on his brain. "You…You called me…You tried…"

"Of course I did," Alex said. "You'd think I wouldn't?"

He looked at her through his half-closed eyes, and she realized with a terrible shock that he did think that.

"Bobby," she said, trying to keep anger out of her voice. "I would never do that…You're my partner…my friend…I'll answer your calls…I'll always help you…if you let me…"

"Eames," he mumbled. "You…Please…Understand…I…I wasn't stupid…Reckless…I called…I called the local police…I tried to get help…I knew…I knew something was wrong…But…I walked out…Walked out of the store…It…It was so hard to do…"

She rested a hand on his forehead. "I know…the kids…the police…They all said…"

He twisted on the bed and tried to ignore the resulting pain. "Eames…please…listen…I had to go back…I had to…And I got there…Emmie…the girl…They…they were going to hurt her…I had to move…I had to help her…"

"Bobby…Bobby…Look at me…Listen to me…" Alex pressed her hand firmly but gently against his head. "I know…I know you had to go back…You wouldn't be you if you hadn't…I understand that…I know you did the right thing…I believe that…"

He forced his eyes open and stared into hers. "But…but do you…" He feared but desperately needed to know the answer.

Alex's hand hovered over the call button. The doctors had stressed that surgical thread and hope held Bobby's leg together, and she feared neither would survive his twisting and turning.

"Bobby…Please…calm down…Your leg…You have to be careful."

He gripped her hand, and his dark eyes bore into hers. "Do you…do you believe in me? Trust me?"

Confused, Alex stared at him.

"She doesn't," Bobby thought. "She can't…"

His heart sunk, and he turned away from her. Her hand on his head now felt like a hot iron; he tried to pull his hand away from hers, but she clung to it.

"Bobby…I don't understand…How can you ask me that? Of course I trust you…believe in you…I don't always understand you, but I trust you."

His heart rose slightly, but he kept his head turned away from her.

"It…it's just…all the stuff I've pulled…What I've done to you…"

"You've done nothing to me…You've never hurt me…Except when you turn me away…I've known what I was getting into…" She rubbed his forehead, and her touch was once again cool and comforting. "Look…this…You did everything you were supposed to. You called for help. You wanted to wait for it, but you couldn't. Any cop…any good cop…would've done what you did…Probably not as well…"

"I…I…" He finally turned his head to her, and she saw the tears brimming in his eyes. She fought against the ones that rose in hers.

"I kept thinking…" He was loosing his battle against the drugs and his exhaustion. "How much I wanted you to be there. If you were there, everything…I knew…I could know…that I was doing the right thing…You'd tell me…"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Alex said, proud that she could control her voice. "But I'm here now…And I can tell you the right thing to do now is get some rest."

He forced his eyes to stay open. "You…you'll stay…I'm sorry…Pull you so far away…"

"I'll stay…It's not a big deal…Just trust me…Rest…Rest…"

He surrendered. When he stirred or shook or shuddered in the night, she touched him and drove away his fears.

END


End file.
